The Lord of Opium

“The border area is the worst, but the rest of the country is a mess too,” said Esperanza. “The United States isn’t any better. Wild animals there can only survive in zoos. The flowers that once covered the countryside have vanished. People huddle in houses, afraid to go anywhere because of crime, and children have forgotten what it’s like to play outside.”

Matt was surprised. So the United States wasn’t a paradise full of Hollywood mansions after all.

“In fact, the whole world is an ecological disaster,” said the woman. “The rich can escape to their little enclaves with gardens and high walls, but even they can’t escape the air. It has become what religious people call God’s Ashtray.”

“God’s Ashtray,” repeated Matt, liking the term. It reminded him of a giant bowl in which rested a single, giant cigarette butt.

“Opium is the only place in the world with an undamaged ecosystem,” said Esperanza. “The UN has declared it a natural refuge. We hope to use its plants and animals to heal other lands.”

“Wait! You’re telling me that El Patrón is going to save the planet? He’s the patron saint of endangered species?” Matt’s whoop of laughter made Esperanza wince.

“This project is too big for you, Matt. You need advisers. You need UN peacekeepers to maintain order.”

“Oh, no! We’re going to do things my way. I want the border free to bring in food, and I don’t want any of your peacekeepers maintaining order like they did in Cocaine. Later on we can discuss exporting the ecosystem. Right now my first concern is to reverse the eejit operation.”

“No one can do that,” said Esperanza.

“I intend to try,” Matt said. “I want you to find me some expert brain surgeons.”

“That’s going to take time,” she protested.

“Do what you can. And I want María and the boys I knew in the plankton factory to visit me.”

“Not possible,” said Esperanza. “Think! You have Glass Eye Dabengwa leaning on your eastern border. He’s not stupid. He’s going over and over your lockdown system, trying to find a way to break it open. Do you really want your friends in his path if he invades?”

Matt was deeply disappointed, but he knew she was right. “We’ll talk about it later,” he conceded. “Right now I want you to find me doctors. I’m going to open the border for brief periods, but be warned—”

Esperanza rubbed her forehead vigorously, and her lips were compressed into a thin line.

“—if your peacekeepers try to get in, I swear that I will fry every gopher, bighorn sheep, and bunny rabbit from here to the Salton Sea. Do you understand?”

From Esperanza’s furious expression, he knew she did.

“Fine. I’ll call you in a few days to see what progress has been made. How do I turn this thing off, Cienfuegos?” But the jefe didn’t need to do anything. Esperanza had already broken the connection.

9

THE GUITAR FACTORY

You should have seen him, Celia!” exclaimed Cienfuegos over lunch. They were in the kitchen, feasting on her excellent chiles rellenos. “It was like having the old man back again.”

“I don’t like the idea of having the old man back again,” said Celia, casting a troubled look at Matt.

The boy ate silently, trying to ignore the conversation. He wasn’t sure what had happened, and he was certain he didn’t like it. Two times a voice had whispered in his ear and made him do things. It was good, of course, to stand up to Esperanza. But where had that courage come from?

“I think we should call him El Relámpago, the Lightning Bolt,” Cienfuegos said. “He let Esperanza have it right between the eyes—Pum!—‘Do what I say or I’ll fry the whole country.’ Brilliant!”

“That’s a terrible thing to threaten,” said Celia.

The jefe shrugged. “Fear is the beginning of wisdom, mi caramelito.”

“Fear of God is the beginning of wisdom,” corrected Celia. “And I’m not your sweetie pie.”

Cienfuegos reached for a tortilla and expertly loaded it with lettuce, beans, and salsa. “What do you say, El Relámpago? Shall we open the border today?”

“Stop giving me nicknames,” Matt said. “How fast can we get supplies in? I don’t want us vulnerable for more than a few minutes.”

“No problemo. The train has been sitting in San Luis for weeks,” said Cienfuegos.

After lunch they returned to the control room, and Matt found he could pause the lockdown in as large or small an area as he liked, while keeping the rest of the border secure. Cienfuegos focused a screen to show him the border post. Following the jefe’s instructions, Matt pressed a button. He heard an alarm ring in the distance and saw a mob of workmen running from a warehouse.

“See? They’ve been waiting for your signal,” said the jefe. “It won’t take them long to unload the train.”